Sexy Witches 1978 (Vintage Edition)
by lovelyapper
Summary: A pulse is a weird thing, isn't it? It can make you feel alive, it can make you want to die, or anything else between. Sirius wants the source of his back, and the others get tangled in the middle of everything. MWPP. Dark humour, slightly crack. Hinted one-sided Remus/Sirius. Oneshot.


**A/N:** Don't take this too seriously please :-D

 **Beta:** no.

"I like people who have a pulse and aren't afraid to show it." – Stephan Jenkins

* * *

SENTINEL

"Remus, wake up."

The said Remus who, judging by the incessant poking on his left cheek, was supposed to wake up in that very second (and quickly now come on, there was no time). Remus was aware of this; the semi-long and rather absurdly girlish index finger nail was waltzing dangerously close to the outer corner of his eye now – and he was also very aware what would happen to him if he was to keep on ignoring the annoying demand that was hovering heatedly next to his ear. This situation was not new to Remus. He had found himself in this position dozens of times too many ever since this relationship started years earlier.

Remus considered himself to be a selfless young man of many good qualities, one of them which was his constant ability to keep his cool while adapting to most circumstances considering foolhardiness and general recklessness. One of his other abilities was to eat peas while hanging a spoon on his nose. He was a nice, calm boy.

Not a stupid one.

"I dare you: poke me _one_ more time and I swear to Merlin I shove your head so far up in your goddamn arse you have to wear yourself as a hat during our graduation ceremony."

The poking stopped, the bed covers moved slightly and Remus lulled a bit under his cover since the weight next to him shifted. Sirius barked.

"Man, seriously are you ever not grouchy as shit when you're woken mid-sleep?"

Remus kept his eyes closed as he grunted into his pillow, "I don't know. Are you ever not infuriating as hell?"

The weight moved again. "Besides, we don't have a graduation ceremony, per se. No one graduates from this school. I think the Headmaster is just going to tell us to piss off at some point."

"That was exactly what I was going to tell you just now," Remus said and tried to pull the cover over his head. He failed because certain someone had slanted their arse on top of it and was not moving.

"You know, you might as well wake up since I'm not going anywhere until you do," Sirius prompted and bit his nail. "It's time. We've been planning this for days."

"No way in hell am I going to take any part in that," Remus grouched from somewhere under the cover where he had been able to hide. He was a nice boy. He was a nice boy who had been having a nice dream about something nice, but now he only wanted to smack Sirius, the most annoying person in the room which _included_ James How-Alive-Am-I Potter, in the head with something blunt. Remus could feel the vein pulsating on his forehead. "None of this is any of my problem, so go bother someone who actually gives a flying fu–"

" _Furthermore_ ," Sirius added, pulling the cover off from Remus and engaging him in an unashamed eye contact even though he was most likely absolutely certain that the crabapple was going to drill a hole in his soul, "You know what we'll going to do, so technically you're already an accomplice. Would anyone happen to hear that _you knew_ about this and did nothing to stop us... What would happen then?"

Remus' jaw clenched. "You are trying my patience."

"I am trying to get you to help me," Sirius corrected jovially, patting Remus on the cheek. "It'll be quick and painless, and you'll be having a breakfast with the rest of the Gryffindor grinches in no time."

Sighing in a gutted manner, Remus ran a hand over his eyes. "Do enlighten me why exactly do you need me in all this? Getting in trouble has never been exactly a difficult task for you."

Obviously elated of the way the conversation had suddenly changed into something Remus was going to regret later, Sirius smiled at him and palmed him on the chest. "It's a three man job, Moony. Potter's going to be in Myrtle's bathroom, you'll be on the lookout outside the office and I ransack the goods."

Remus stared at him unbelievingly from under his brows. "I believe there's four of us in this dormitory."

With a confused head tilt, Sirius agreed. "...Yeah?"

"If you would, let's say, remove _me_ from the equation, there still would be, how should I put it." Remus counted his fingers and showed Sirius the three middle fingers on his right hand. "This many of you. Three."

"Aye."

The point he was trying to get across was clearly disappearing somewhere in between Remus' mouth and Sirius' brain. "I'm trying to ask you why aren't you taking Peter. Why do I have to have anything to do with this?"

"Oh!" Sirius ruffled his hair from the top of his head. "Pete refused."

"So _he_ can refuse?"

Sirius laughed. "Well, as it so happens –"

"This got to be good," Remus mumbled, deadpanned. He was starting to get a headache. He sank in his pillow.

"We were considering him as our go-to guy since, let's face it, you're a goody-goody who hates having fun and who gets easily irritated for some reason, but he got hungry last night after detention and went to look for pastries in the kitchen, and he must have eaten too many since his reason for declining was that he has an irritable bowel today and he cannot really focus on too many things at once, so we have to settle for you and your relentless scolding. And besides, you have the sharpest eyes what comes to the Map."

"I love how you use sweet talk to soften me up in these situations."

Sirius smiled affably at him and Remus could only surrender.

* * *

OVERSEER

"God damn it, arse motherfucker I knew he would so this!" Sirius shook his fist up in the air above him. "Son of a bitch! _Every damn time_!"

* * *

BOMBER

James had been about 11 years old when he was first introduced to the beautiful acts of havoc and vandalism. This happened somewhat hand in hand with his introduction to Sirius on their way to Hogwarts for the very first time, and one might have to add that the second he had seen those stupid girly fingers grasp that illegally obtained dungbomb, James had been hooked.

An adrenalin junkie, that's what Remus had called him when he fell off his broom during the final match between Ravenclaw and Gryffindor on their fourth year. His shoulder dislocated, his face bloody and muddy, James had just laughed.

Gryffindor won.

Tuesday, 7:00am, first floor

Quickly striding past professor McGonagall's office, James tried to look as innocent as it was possible for him, in every way meaning that he didn't succeed too well. His tall stature accompanied with the alert brown eyes weren't enough to make him seem nonchalant and collected as he scurried forward with his long legs; no, James looked like the offspring of an owl and a spider. He had almost reached behind the corner where he could use the following passageway and move right near the Classroom 1A and then –

"Potter!"

James stopped dead in his tracks. This was it. He quickly touched the strap of his satchel on his shoulder, the same satchel that held the Invisibility Cloak and the dungbombs, only to make sure it was still there. He sighed as he knew what Sirius would think about this situation, let alone Remus. Feeling the eyes on his neck, James turned around. The lads might disagree, but oh, it was so much more fun this way.

Professor McGonagall was standing in her doorway, supporting he usual stance with her long, lean arms crossed on her chest. His heart pounding, James took the needed steps back and once before his Head of a House, he flashed her a happy grin. "Morning, ma'am."

"It's quite the sight to see you up and about this early, Potter," the professor said with an overtly observing look on her face. James felt blood rushing through his veins, it was as though all he could hear was static. He was being weighed. "Going somewhere?"

"Yes," James admitted, squeezing the strap of his bag. "To have breakfast, ma'am. I sure am hungry."

"Breakfast starts at 7.30am and you're going to the wrong direction."

James brought his hands on his chest and slyly tried to feel up the pulse from his wrist. He was already slightly late and he wasn't sure how he could escape this situation without making himself look suspicious. He smiled. "Professor, I was actually going to the kitchens to get some extra grub, sorry."

"You're still going to the wrong way, Potter."

"Ne, I was just taking a slight detour," James added joyously while trying to keep his hands from shaking. The professor's eyes were judging him from head to toe. He gulped. "I'm an athlete, ma'am, so I have to keep a tight training and diet regimen in order to score some extra points against the Slytherin next Saturday."

The professor tilted her head to the right. The movement was minimal but didn't escape James. "Is that so?"

"Yes," James said. "Our house sure doesn't want to lose that game, not after the way those greens kept blatching on us during the last season's final game. I mean, it did cost us the House Cup. A few more hoops would have covered it."

"This is the first game of the season, not a final match."

James nodded, bringing his palm on his neck. "Yes, but it will determine the course of the entire season. The bitter chagrin inflicted on us by the last game this spring is still present during the rehearsals, but should we show the other houses that we are a force not to clown around with, not after so much training, it would certainly make a huge impact on the Gryffindor team. It's more than a reason to retaliate immediately, wouldn't you agree?" James lowered his head a bit but kept his eyes steady on the woman's. She didn't even blink. "Professor, we _have to win_."

Something behind the professor's eyes changed suddenly. James had hit her in the nerve. Her pride.

"Just make sure you won't be late for today's classes, Potter," McGonagall said curtly and with a quick swoosh turned around to re-enter her stony-looking office. "Transfiguration starts at 9."

James saluted her back with an "Aye!" and once he was certain she was not coming back from her room, he continued with his mission.

* * *

OVERSEER

Sirius was seething and it took every bit of Remus' sad muscle density to keep him from tearing up the Marauder's Map.

"The stupidest thing anyone has ever done," Remus said to Sirius in order to calming him down once he managed to salvage the precious artefact from the deadly grip. "Trusting James to be the one who needs to stay hidden around a crime scene? The man is an idiot savant, a thrill seeker with a severe case of God complex. You really think he would use the Cloak that easily? Or as instructed?"

"He better use it when he's coming back," Sirius grumbled back at him, peering at the corridor. "If this gets ruined because he's being an egotistical bag of cocks, I'm going to murder him."

They were lurking about the Entrance hall in ground level, behind a random large gargoyle, which, in the beginning had made snarky comments at them but yielded after noticing that neither of them cared. Remus was eyeing the Map which showed that Filch was still in his office; he also saw that James had finally entered the girls' lavatory on first floor, fortunately Moaning Myrtle not on sight since James most definitely was still not using the Cloak.

Suddenly Sirius patted Remus on the arm. "Hey, hey, here he comes."

Amongst the students, Filch was known to take morning rounds right after 7am, walking around the places where he had previously caught unsuspecting or out-of-bounds pupils doing things they probably shouldn't have been doing. That, or he looking for Peeves, who was usually creeping around the Charms classroom or having a swim in the boys' lavatory (it was a rumour, but many thought Filch wanted to join the ghost). The seventh floor, where the four boys lived and thus made most of the mayhem, managed to stay Filch-free quite a lot since why would anyone want to run up to the seventh floor 15 times a day? Moreover, unfortunately for himself, Filch had already fallen into the vortex of becoming routined at his job, and so he was more or less unaware of the fact that the boys were using it against him.

"It's Tuesday, so he's going to check the Great Hall first and then move upwards in counter-clockwise fashion, right?" Sirius had his eyes tightly on the man's back which seconds later vanished inside the enormous Great Hall doors. Next to Sirius, Remus kept his eyes on the Map and once he was certain that Sirius had been right, he scanned the area around them. They were alone.

"Woop, 6 o'clock. Someone's coming in 30 seconds," Remus said to Sirius and pushed him forward from his back. Not even questioning this, Sirius took it as an opportunity to saunter across the Entrance hall and to the door of Filch's office. He drew a metallic hairpin from his hair and picked the lock with such a speed and sangfroid it made the mastermind criminals of the century weep with jealousy.

Before he jumped inside the caretaker's office, he gave Remus the Frowny Face a thumbs up.

* * *

IRRITABLE BOWEL

Peter was walking towards the stairs that would have taken him down to the ground floor and to the boys' lavatory when he saw Remus crouching behind a gargoyle, waving at Peter to come over. Holding his stomach, Peter descended the stairs with haste and carefully squatted next to Remus.

"What are you doing?" Peter asked Remus, who suddenly looked as irritated as a dragon who had been tickled awake.

"I was signalling you to go away," Remus muttered and turned his eyes back on the Map. "You know the hand signals, right? Arm behind back, go. Arm in front, come. Which one did I use, Peter?"

Peter shrugged. Somehow the annoyed werewolf nerd seemed even more vexed than usual. Peter saw how tight Remus' jaw was and how he was holding the Map almost white-knuckled. "I thought you were just waving at me."

"Yes, because I'm frivolous enough to just wave at people," Remus mumbled as he kept his eyes on the piece of parchment. He scanned the Filch office, Sirius' name was parked close to the cabinets. Filch's name was now moving on to the first' floor, past the girls' lavatory and towards McGonagall's office. James' name was moving slowly inside the girl's lavatory, near the door. He was most likely listening. Myrtle wasn't there.

7:15.

"Moony, what are you doing?"

"Keeping guard since you are apparently living in the loo now," said Remus offhandedly, after which he glanced at Peter, who was holding his stomach. "Shouldn't you be in the toilet? You do look like you should go."

Peter watched him rather confusedly. "What?"

"Because of the pastries?" Remus asked him.

"Moony, there are no pastries in the toilet."

Remus sighed and returned his eyes on the Map. There were several more names appearing on it now, since the time was nearing the first breakfast. Thankfully most students only decided to wake up around 7.30, so they had a few moments before things would get harder. For a second too long he watched Sirius' tiny footsteps, Filch's name on the stairs to the second floor, he saw Flitwick, Peeves heading towards the girls' lavatory –

Remus inhaled sharply. "Peter, stop Peeves. Moaning Myrtle's loo, go."

"What?" Peter whined as Remus pushed him up. "But I'm hungry –"

Remus casted his eyes on the boy. "Run or I will make you run."

"Aye, sir," Peter breathed.

* * *

BOMBER

James was smirking at his reflection in the mirror. He was facing the round body of large porcelain sinks and tall silver-framed mirrors, his hands tightly gripping the edges of the sink right before him. His satchel was in the sink and his eyes on his own pulse that was clearly visible in the mirror.

He wasn't quite sure why small things like this got him so excited, so worked up, but it felt good to be alive and see his actual life pulsating under the skin, on his throat. As did playing Quidditch with his teammates, so did the feeling of doing something wrong make his hands shake with exhilaration. Many times had he almost fallen off his broom merely because he was unable to steady his hands.

Just a moment earlier he had heard the slouching sound of Filch patrolling behind the door, but as usual, Filch didn't bother to check the girls' lavatory for he, as many others, were inclined to stay away from the girl who died in there. She was a nuisance, sure, but the thought of her coming to the place when James wasn't hidden from everyone's eyes was making him further animated.

He snickered at his image. He was a bit odd.

* * *

OVERSEER

Sirius was searching. His long fingers touched so many weird things in the cabinets, in the boxes, on the shelves. His eyes feverishly looked at everything, things that might have been useful, things that were most definitely dangerous.

" _Only what you go there for_ ," he heard Remus' voice in his head.

"Focus," Sirius told himself. Quickly, frantically –

* * *

SENTINEL

Remus' pulse was getting wild as he followed the names on the Map. It was just another thing, another one of their foolish little shenanigans, so why was he getting so worked up? As he watched Sirius' name, he clicked his tongue and made a mental note to lecture himself later about this.

"I can't believe I'm going to get detention because of Sirius' stupid porno magazine."

* * *

IRRITABLE BOWEL

Peter ran as fast as he could to the first floor, where he, indeed, saw Peeves hanging about in front of the girls' lavatory. The poltergeist was lulling in the air like a mermaid, but instead of being graceful and angel-like, Peeves was far from it with his small, hellish gnome-like apperance. Peter felt himself handsome.

Watching the poltergeist throw burning matches at an unmoving armour with a spear, Peter had no idea what was going on. He eyed the corridor, not knowing what to do.

* * *

BOMBER

James nodded at himself and instead of finally tossing the Invisibility Cloak on top of himself as he was instructed, he shoved it in his bag. The satchel he secured over his shoulders, inhaled sharply and, ready to be seen as he was always supposed to, he threw the first dungbomb on the wall above the toilet cubicles.

The stink was overwhelming, but the sound was far worse. It was a short-lived but loud enough to rattle the small windows, the mirrors. A small but an effective boom. The sound alone would have made James smile if he wasn't too busy trying not to puke because of the horrid smell.

He felt his hand shake as he held onto another bomb.

* * *

IRRITABLE BOWEL

Peter stood horrified in the middle of the corridor, wanting to run away. He would have, but the image of Remus' vexed eyes made his feet think otherwise. They started running towards the bathroom. Perhaps a pipe had exploded? But something told Peter that perhaps Remus knew what was going on.

Once Peter opened the door, the stink stunned him and he fell on his knees. He didn't see James, who threw another bomb straight in front of him before running past him and into the corridor. Peter was supposed to be Filch, but wasn't. Peeves was rolling in air and cackling at the moronic perpetrator, probably wishing he had done all that instead.

Before Peter passed out, he was kind of happy not to know what the hell was going on.

* * *

OVERSEER

Sirius ran out of Filch's office, flailing the tit magazine above his head. He scuttled straight to Remus, whose prior morning moroseness had vanished and who looked like he had seen a ghost.

"Remus?" Sirius asked. "I'm all set. We can go."

"We should..." Remus started but wasn't able to finish the sentence. Sirius frowned at the boy's twitching eye and took a look at the Map in Remus' hands.

James' footprints were dashing towards them, Filch's and Peeve's right behind him, McGonagall taking the last place. All except McGonagall moving very fast (she was scariest when she got motionless). Peter's name was very still in the girls' lavatory. Random students' names were hovering around him.

"MISSION COMPLETED! ABANDON POST!"

Sirius and Remus lifted their heads from the Map and saw James leaping down the stairs, looking like he was flying with his robe. He looked too happy about the situation.

"Yeah," said Sirius curtly to Remus, tugging his arm. "We should go."

* * *

SENTINEL

"Remus, wake up."

Remus opened his left eye and saw enormous breasts float right in front of his face. He decided against the mammary glands and pressed his head deeper into his pillow. "Nice."

"Woah, how come you're not infuriated that I woke you up?" Sirius asked, most definitely genuinely surprised that Remus was not attacking him with a shoe. He climbed on his friend's bed and sat next to Remus' back.

"What good does that do," said Remus calmly to the pillow as though they were talking about the weather. He worked with every fibre he had not to give away his rapidly increasing pulse. "It won't make professor McGonagall forget the two weeks' worth of detention, the ban of any club activities for a month, nor the fact that Peter is still in the hospital wing because he's shell-shocked. James still stinks like the dungbombs he threw around and due to the club activity ban he cannot play on the match on Saturday." Remus let out a small sigh. "We will lose to the Slytherins."

Sirius relaxed himself on the bed next to Remus and kept eyeing the magazine. "I didn't know you were into Quidditch."

Remus turned over on his back and indolently eyed the centrefold picture. "You amaze me, you know."

"How so," Sirius replied and turned the next page. He was way too focused on watching the pictures.

"The way you first went through all the trouble of getting this magazine back from Filch and then even managed to get professor McGonagall to let you keep it." Remus eyed the entirety of Sirius sideways, watching the way his long fingers fiddled with the paper. "Why would you do that? It's just a magazine with some..." Remus peered at the magazine to confirm his words. The lady on the right page was flat-chested, slim and gorgeous with dark hair. "I take it back – that _is_ erotic."

"I know, it makes my pulse go wild." Sirius smiled by himself. "Merlin, look at the rack on _that_ one!"


End file.
